72.

Last night,

after I was settled

in from the move,

I had another

nightmare.

It’s one that

haunts me.

Creatures

come from outer space.

They look just like people

only they’re covered

in brown fur.

And they’re blind.

They snap long whips

to see where people are.

In my dream they

always get close,

but they never can quite catch me,

which is good,

because then I can warn people

aliens are here on earth,

coming to get us.

I jerk awake

and remember the diary.

I know where it is.

I know

where Liz’s kept it hid all along.

I turn on my side

and stare at my sister’s mattress

left propped next

to the wall

because Momma didn’t

have the time to

set things up

for Lizzie.

She ain’t here is she?

Momma said.

So why should I do it?

I couldn’t

argue with that.

My hands shake

and I’m not sure

if it’s the dream

making me feel this way

or the little book.

But

something leaves me with

cold guts.

Think of something else,

I say to myself.

My voice sounds so loud

in the semi-dark

of this new room

with less of a promise

of Liz

than the last.

And lonely, too.